The Last Rose
by Isabella Grey
Summary: His love made the final blow and now Alistair is left all alone. He couldn't say his good-bye to her at the funeral, so he heads to Weisshaupt in hopes he can say good-byes to his love there, by offering her a familiar gift, a red rose.


_**A/N**__**: **__This is dedicated as a last good-bye to all of Alistair's loves who made the ultimate sacrifice and left him behind at the gates of Denerim. This is my first fan fiction._

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_The first rose was living._

It was a simple thing, so simple yet so beautiful. Its inner layers weaved together into a spiral of controlled loveliness while its outer layer reached out for more freedom and life. It was nature's perfect contradiction, an object with name with such few letters. It was a rose, a single red rose, and it could not have been a more perfect symbol for the one Alistair's thoughts held so near.

His thoughts were the only way he was allowed to hold her now. She was gone from this world and had moved on to the next. The archdemon had taken her away from him. The life-sized statue of her likeness that marked the head of her tombstone was his only real proof now that she existed one time as a woman who walked, talk, and fought better then any man he knew.

Alistair approached the statue with an eerie slowness of one weighted down in enormous grief and sadness. The crunching of the fresh snow under his plated boots was sound that could be heard for miles in the cemetery built to honor those who gave their lives in return for ending the Blight. His love would have been deeply appreciative to be counted amongst the legendary Grey Wardens such as Garahel, who have achieved their rightful place in lore of Ferelden. Was it really an honor though for her?

Alistair could hardly believe that having one's name in a measly book attached with "ending a Blight before it even started" was such an esteem place for his love to be, especially after realizing its cost. The ones who would be reading about her for years to come would have no idea of the kind of person she was. She would be nothing more then just someone for whom they should look up to and appreciate as she had saved their lives and their homelands.

Alistair reached the statue of his love. She was depicted with her sword drawn getting ready to attack an unseen enemy. He took notice of the shiny plate that was attached underneath the pedestal to let all of Thedas to know who this remarkable young woman was and what she did to earn her place among the legends. He traced the letters of her name with his free hand, slowly. Each letter brought a new memory of the times they had spent together during the Blight. Each memory brought him a little closer to his love.

He remembered how they fought their way through the Wilds finding the vials that would eventually make her into the only surviving Grey Warden of her Joining. He remembered them battling their way to top of towel of Ishal and surviving the battle of Ostagar with the help of two crazy apostates. He remembered her comforting him on his mentor's death and her being the one to push him and the party through Lothering and eventually on their seemly impossible task of standing between the Blight and Ferelden. He remembered her never losing faith even as the odds stacked against them and she still managed to make sure to keep in constant communication with everyone who followed her. It was her way for her to show that they were still needed and were a valuable member of her party from the first time they meet to when they said their final good-bye at the gates of Denerim

Alistair's fingers slid lower to the inscription etched directly underneath her name. He couldn't think of a better fitting inscription that could have been bestowed upon his love as he read it to himself aloud, "This memorial is for the brave and valiant woman who gave up everything she had ever known to rise up and fulfill her sacred duty as a Grey Warden. She successful slain the archdemon and thus, freeing the lands of Ferelden from the Blight before it truly took hold. She shall be known as the hero of Ferelden, for now and for ever more. She will be greatly missed."

Alistair felt his eyes well up as the reality of the finality of situation around him finally sunk in. His love was not coming back. She was dead. He had never allowed himself to use those words before in the same sentence. He believed that the events on top of Fort Drakon had happened to someone else and not to his love. No, the woman he loved was just gone. She was hiding afraid to tell him that she failed in killing the tainted god. That body that had been laid out during her funeral was just a trick to convince everyone not to look for her.

Now, he realized that that was lie he told himself to keep him from feeling the full weight of her death and of being the only Grey Warden who survived that battle in Denerim. He could avoid it no longer. The woman he loved and that loved him was dead. He was standing at her grave where her body was buried. He looked down, pulling his tears back within him. He had come there to say good-bye and that could only come with the realization of her death, but was he really ready to say it?

Alistair took a deep breath stepping back to be able to look at the statue of his love. He used his mind's eye to imagine his real love standing there instead of her stoned carved cousin. He watched as the stone chipped its self away to reveal the woman he loved. She moved from her attacking position into a sitting one on the stone pedestal with the engraved plate. She smiled at Alistair warmly as she looked at him with eyes as full of life and confidence as the day when they first met. The illusion gave Alistair the courage to speak.

"Here, look at this. Do you know what this is?" He asked, pulling out the red rose he had been holding behind his back the whole time and showing to her. He watched an amused, but puzzled look cross his love face. "Your new weapon of choice?" He heard her ask just as old times. "Yes, that's right. Watch as I trash our enemies with the mighty power of floral arrangements. Feel my thorns, darkspawn! Tah! I will overpower you with my rose scent! Huh, hah!" He responded pretending to take down an invisible darkspawn using the rose as a sword.

He secretly delighted in watching a smile cross her lips before he returned to be being serious. "Or you know it could be just a rose. I know that's pretty dull in comparison." "Sentiment can be a pretty potent weapon." She responded, seeing right through his act just like always. "Is it still that easy to see right through me? I guess I shouldn't be surprised." Alistair stated before sighing as he handed the rose to her. His love nodded as she took it from him. Not unlike the last time he had this conversation with her, he could feel a sense of nervousness take over him, but for a different reason entirely this time, before he opened his mouth to speak again.

"I picked it at Fork Drakon after the final battle. They had just taken you from my arms as I brought you down from the top of the fort to get the funeral arrangements ready. I watched as our friends past by me, following the men with grave faces and sad eyes as they realized what you had done for them and the whole country. I was still in shock and could not bring myself to follow them. I keep thinking about what you did, filled with all different types of emotion, and just when I couldn't take it anymore my eyes fell on the rose hidden among burnt and crushed grass. I could have sworn the spot was empty on the way up. It was like you sent me a signed that you were still out there and were watching over me." He said, feeling a little better to be getting out his feelings that he just couldn't do at her funeral. It was so much harder for him to talk to her dead corpse that used to be her rather then a statue that he knew would never be his love.

"I am watching over you as I love you." The illusion of the woman he loved said, confirming his statement. "Then why did you leave me behind at the gate? Why didn't you take me with you to fight the archdemon? Why did you have to be a stubborn, stubborn woman and be the one to sacrifice yourself?" Alistair turned yelling at her, fighting to keep his tears from falling. "Because you and I both know you would have done something foolish and I couldn't bear to let anything happen to you." She answered before looking down at the rose sadly. "Of course, I would have done something foolish! Maker's breath, I love you and I would have never let you die if I had breath left in my body to stop you from making the final blow." He said before turning away from her.

"That's why I left you behind. I couldn't bear to lose you. I know you hurting right now, but you will get through this. You have a strong heart, Alistair, much more then I would have had if the situation were reversed. You will move on and contribute more to Ferelden then I ever could, especially with your Theirin bloodline. I have fulfilled my duty. I am not needed anymore." She responded. "You are still needed, my love. Ferelden needs you...Our friends need you...I need you..." He answered his voice breaking as he did.

His love set down the rose on the pedestal as she got down from it. She walked over to Alistair and placed a hand on his shoulder forcing him to face her, "Alistair, my love, you don't need me. You are not the same man that I met back at Ostagar. You have grown leaps and bounds, confident enough to now take a leader role, and make your own decisions by which to stand by. And I don't regret one moment I ever spent with you. In fact I cherish every second. So I would do anything I could to save you, over and over again."

Alistair looked at her, studying every inch of her, trying to burn her lovely image into his memory for those lonely times he knew would come without her. "Maker's breath, but you're beautiful. I am lucky man, and I always will be." He said finally before pulling her towards him, not caring if she was real or not. He just needed to feel his arms around her one more time. He wanted to feel her lips against his for one last kiss. He did not know if it was some hopeful trick of his mind, but he would have sworn he could feel her with him in the one last embrace he wanted. It was if she was real like the night prior to the final fight.

As they pulled apart, he could feel her slip away from him again as she back her way towards the pedestal. She climbed back on it, picking up the rose as she did. "So you do you still love me, Alistair?" She asked as she looked at him one final time. "Forever and always." He answered her before smiling.

The next second, she was back to being a statue likeness of his love appearing like before, with nothing out of the ordinary. Alistair looked her one final time before he turned away, grinning. He had noticed a small change in the statue as he began to walk back the way he came. There was an addition that was not there before. In one hand, his love held her sword like usual and in the other, a single rose. It was a rose very much in fact like the one he just given her...

_The last rose was made out of stone._


End file.
